


Welcoming the New Year with a Bang!

by LoveIsAMyth (sweetponzu)



Category: GOT7, SEVENTEEN (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Bad Pick-Up Lines, Drinking, Multi, New Year's Eve, also a lot of these relationship tags can be blamed on jackson rlly, clubs, gratuitous drinking, honestly markson is the main chars, pick up lines galore, the others get a mention or a couple of paragraphs in passing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 22:58:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5644924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetponzu/pseuds/LoveIsAMyth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s December 31st and Jackson is determined to greet the New Year with a bang. Or more, if time allowed. Mark just can’t believe he got roped into being the idiot’s wing man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welcoming the New Year with a Bang!

**Author's Note:**

> i KNOW it's late. I'm also sorry for the gratuitous inclusion of so many horrible pick up lines but I did it as a challenge for myself. You'll know what I'm talking about if you visit my tumblr; saythenameGotBang17fics.tumblr.com 
> 
> [Belated] Happy New Years and MINGLE WITH THE SINGLES SAFELY!

It’s December 31st and Jackson is determined to greet the New Year with a bang. Or more, if time allowed. Mark just can’t believe he got roped into being the idiot’s wing man.

The first bar of the night–“Trust. There will be multiple, it’ll be a shame to deprive everyone the opportunity for a piece of the Wang pie,” Jackson adds an extra layer of grease with a wink.– is turnt the hell up and it was only 5:30 pm. The bass is dropped lower than Jackson’s pants and the lights were set to epilepsy-inducing; it’s horrible and Mark doesn’t know how Jackson expects to be able to use his stupid pick up lines when the music’s volume won’t even allow him to hear his own thoughts.

“Can I put you on my to-do list?”  And there he goes. Thankfully the girl in the tight mesh dress either didn’t hear Jackson or decided to ignore him and walked away. Jackson was not fazed at all, shrugging it off before taking a shot of something lime green. Mark hopes that was his first shot but it’s likely the third since they’ve been at this club for fifteen minutes already. Mark goes to the bar to get a drink for himself, might as well, if he was going to be babysitting through the night.

He’s halfway through his drink and thirty minutes deep in the bar when he catches sight of Jackson again. He’s considerably more sweaty and his steps were more loose, swagger set to max. He makes his way to the bar and Mark thinks maybe Jackson wants to hop to the next bar but he sits himself a couple seats away from Mark, right next to a blonde sipping a dirty martini. With alcohol in his system, Mark just sits back to enjoy the show, his hand on his phone. 

“I’m going outside to make out… care to join me?” 

They go to the next bar, Mark’s pocket stuffed with numbers and his phone one more black-mail material heavier. Mark doesn’t even try to help Jackson wipe off the rest of the martini on him– why bother when there’s more to come?

This one is more sedate but no less grating to Mark’s slightly buzzed ears. At least the lights are less blinding and somebody bought him a drink as soon as he sat at the bar. Jackson shoots him a dirty look muttering a “stupid good-looking prude” before wandering off into the dance floor. The floor is smaller than the last one’s so he can easily follow Jackson’s blonde hair moving and pausing in intervals while mingling with all the other depraved souls this New Years. 

“Does it taste alright?” Red full lips and a tight fitting dress, this woman was just right up Jackson’s alley. Unfortunately, it’s Mark who attracts them like flies, “It tastes good, thanks.” She leans closer in his space and Mark is perfectly capable of having her back off himself but Jackson beats him to it, “Sorry, pretty lady,” He slips his arms around her waist, “This guy here isn’t into your lady parts.”

He turns her face towards him by her chin, the motion a little sloppy because he’s most likely drank a whole bottle’s worth of Jaeger Meister by now, “Fortunately for you, _my_ sexual preference is _often_.”

“I swear she leaned up to kiss me!” Jackson stumble along, hand gesturing wildly and almost hitting a passerby. 

“Yeah, and the reason why you have a red mark on your cheek is?” It’s cold and Mark just wants to take Jackson home and maybe curl up on Jackson’s old, musty sofa with hot chocolate, watching re-runs of Friends till New Years hits.

“Hey! That’s no way to treat me, after I saved you from the scary, busty chick who bought you a drink!”

“My hero,” Mark rolls his eyes.

The next one’s a gay bar because Jackson’s sexuality was as fluid as the smooth Hennessy Mark downs. He says it helps spread the love more evenly, Mark calls bullshit because the only thing it helps spread was the net of victims of Jackson’s pick-up tactics.

 

* * *

 

Jackson’s feeling more than a little drunk but since he can still walk and talk coherently enough to order another shot, he figure he was still good. He spots someone, black hair, thick lips and chiseled collarbones– he was practically begging Jackson to come bother him. He stumbles and nearly knocks over the table of the dark booth, but since he’s Jackson he plays it off with a; “I think I could fall madly in bed with you.”

His eyebrow curl and his lips quirk a little– a signature look that everyone seems to acquire when met with him. Jackson’s not deterred. 

“Apart from being sexy, what do you do for a living?” 

“Wow, you are totally drunk right now, aren’t you?” He quirks his eye brows and his face is a little blurry but also a lot familiar and Jackson can’t quite put his finger on it. He’d ask if he’s met the guy somewhere before, but that pick up lines a bit too overused for his taste– Jackson had class.

“I’m not drunk, I’m just intoxicated by you.” He gives him a slow smile, the kind that gets them hooked. 

“Well, I _am_ always looking for meaningful one night stands. But I don’t usually go for the cheap ones…”    Alright, hurtful, but his lips pull up into a smile and Jackson knows he’s in. He doesn’t know if he can even get it up right now, but he knows he’s in and he’ll have something to show Mark. The smug bastard.

Jackson leans in close, nearly knocking down a couple stem glasses, “I’m not cheap, but I am on special this week.” He adds a wink to seal the deal. 

“I’m pretty sure that just means you’re even cheaper but hey, sex is sex.” He shrugs his shoulders and Jackson almost misses his next segue into a really great line he’d thought of yesterday because the way his jacket fell away a little to show his shoulders and more of his clavicle– shite, that shit should be illegal. Thankfully Jackson knows his lines by heart.

“Sex is not the answer. Sex is the question. Yes is the answer.” At this point, they’re so close that he’s pretty sure Jinyoung can smell the martini off him but he’s pretty content in smelling the pleasant smell of pineapples and cherries from the other’s breath. The sweat glistening off his neck made Jackson want to lean in and just _lick._ He sucks in a much needed breathe before looking back up to his kohl-lined eyes. 

It doesn’t register to him that he just connected a name to the supposed stranger he was hooking up with until Mark is dragging him away by the scruff of his leather jacket just as he had the other’s hand massaging down onto his dick and his lips gnawing marks onto a pineapple spiced collarbone.

 

* * *

 

Fucking. _Hell_. He let’s Jackson out of his sight for the thirty minutes it took to wash off his vomit from Mark’s favorite pair of pants and then he catches him enthusiastically making out with his ex-boyfriend’s neck. Was this seriously even Mark’s life? The alcohol’s helping a lot with numbing him but he pushes Jackson in to the next club over, a little rougher than necessary. 

“Shit, was that Jinyoung? I’m– shit sorry, Mark.” Jackson’s a horrible flirt but even when drunk he was never a horrible friend– at least not too much. But tonight was proving to be a test of that. Mark threads his fingers into Jackson’s bleached hair, looking fondly into Jackson’s blown irises, tapping their foreheads together with a loud ‘clonk!’ before hitting Jackson’s back roughly, a couple times for good measure, then guided him over to a seat in the bar. Jackson’s pouting and rubbing the small red mark on his forehead but he pays for the most expensive bottle of apple spiced rum and asks the tender to send it over to the guy with the “great hair”. Mark sighs, shaking his head with a begrudging smile stretching across his face before raising his arm up, letting the tender know he’s the guy with the supposed great hair. 

He feels his face warm a little when he comes closer, realizing that if anyone had any right to being called ‘the guy with the great hair’, it would have to be the bar tender. Long, slick blonde hair in a pony tail with a matching saucy smile. He asks Mark if he wants to start drinking it now, he gives an absentminded nod back, planning to just enjoy the view while waiting for Jackson to inevitably get himself thwarted away by the next person he approaches. The rum is smooth and it settles hot and heavy under Mark’s belly; Mark would bet this will taste great mixed into hot chocolate with a big helping of whipped cream as he lounged in fuzzy socks and Jackson’s ratty blanket. 

 

* * *

 

Jackson meant to stay out of trouble, really he was. He’d seen the bartender and knew right away that he was exactly Mark’s type, so as the good friend that he was, he got Mark some expensive ass shit and good fucking company, as well. He hopes the fifty he handed the long haired tender was enough to at least let Mark play tonsil hockey with the guy. He’d planned to sit at a booth with the perfect vantage view of where Mark sat but well… trouble came shimmying in tight leather pants and a tank top and who was Jackson to resist? He wastes no time approaching the guy, letting himself get pumped to the bass of some song about fucking, which he very much wanted to do before the year was up. He gets close enough that when the other turns, their thighs brush and he can see how the lights shine off the gloss on his lips. 

“Oh, hey sorry!” He stumbles forward into Jackson in his efforts to untangle himself, “Wow, I..I’m so wasted, ‘probly shouln’t stay her so long…” 

Jackson, who held him up with his arms on toned biceps, chuckles into his ear, letting out a husky “You can stay but your clothes must go.” The other giggles and Jackson’s not usually into the cute type but he’s definitely got an ass of a stripper. He gets real close and their breathes are mingling and Jackson swears he’s getting laid with this piece of hot ass tonight, so he fires off the killer line he’d been saving, “Want to come over and watch porn on my flat screen mirror?”

 

* * *

 

Jackson comes over to the bar, completely blocking Mark’s view of the bartender shaking up another drink, with an equally drunk companion. Jackson’s wiggling his eyebrows up and down while shouting at the top of his lungs, as if Mark wasn’t literally right in front of him, that “this is Jimin and we’re fucking till New Years hits so we need to go home NOW!!!”

‘Jimin’ had nice full lips, leather pants that hugged his ass tighter than a cock ring, and the cutest eye smile. Jimin also looks long passed drunk and he’s loopy and giggly and Jackson’s most likely thinking of 69 ways to dirty his poor abused couch by now. Jimin also happened to have a mint-haired boyfriend named Yoongi, if his loud squealing of “Yoongi-hyeoong~” was to be taken into account, and Jackson gets very much acquainted with “Yoongi-hyung’s” three front knuckles. 

“I love when you’re rough.” They’re in the backroom of the club with a borrowed first aid kit and Mark was dabbing onto the shiner Jackson got himself more roughly just for that line. Jackson protests the abuse but Mark shoots him a withering glare to silence him. Mark turn away to fold some gauze when Jackson wraps his arms around him, effectively stopping and disgusting Mark. He’s pretty sure Jackson’s jacket was a hazmat at this point of the night. He tells him as much and was about to push the other to the ground but Jackson just had a way with words. “You are so mean… and I’m okay with that.” It’s mumbled and barely audible but it’s enough for Mark to turn around in his arms to get a closer look at Jackson. Had he been punched too hard? Did he get a concussion?

Jackson leans up into Mark’s space, eyes blown and lips formed into a pout; “Can I borrow a kiss? I promise I’ll give it back.” 

“Oh _gross,_ Is that all your mouth is good for?” Mark does push Jackson down to the, most probably disease infested, floor of the cramped backroom of the club he’d just had the daylights knocked out of him. 

Jackson groans but still manages a cheeky slurred “Is that a challenge?”

Mark rolls his eyes, ignoring the way the heat of Jackson’s stare had prickled his skin with heat earlier. “It’s thirty minutes before New Years– you are not gonna find anyone to get laid with especially with how you’re looking,” Mark takes a moment to gesture at all of Jackson, an action that he’s sure was much appreciated by the reckless blonde. “So, as the one with a functioning brain, I say we are going home, _now_.”

Jackson’s looking down at the ground, and Mark worries that he may have fallen asleep which would suck because Jackson was _not_ light, but he thankfully looks up with a mirth dancing in his eyes. “I don’t like being told what to do unless I’m naked.”

Mark just sighs, just tired and so done for the year at this point. He nods while hefting Jackson up, intending on supporting half his friend’s weight as they try to get outside and hail a cab [which was going to be another fuck fest, Mark can already tell, what with it being New Year’s fucking Eve].

They get home and it’s a couple minutes more before the New Years finally drop down on them. He doesn’t have enough energy to change his or Jackson’s clothes but he has enough to heat up cheap instant hot chocolate and pull over Jackson’s ratty blanket that had the power rangers printed on its woolly surface. Jackson’s in his arms because the other had always been a clingy drunk and Mark was too tired to push the dork off– plus he was the perfect heat source during cold times like these. The countdown begins and the lights are dimmed low, the noise and the shouts and the low bases absent from the badly insulated walls of Jackson’s small apartment, leaving Mark mellow and soft against Jackson’s soft puffs of breath. Just as the countdown hits one, he places a light kiss on top of Jackson’s brow, pulling away with a whispered _Happy New Years_.

Jackson responds by huddling closer into Mark’s arms and the moment was almost tender and soft and could have been one of Mark’s most treasure memories of 2016 but Jackson just had to open his mouth.

“I need one of those hugs that turns into sex.” 


End file.
